


Expendable

by littlespider9



Series: The Pilot [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlespider9/pseuds/littlespider9
Summary: Bodhi’s just a pilot. He’s always been expendable.





	1. 1

“Cassian.”

The last thing he remembered was collapsing beside Jyn on the beach, his vision greying out as a bright white wall of destruction raced towards them. But as he slowly lifted his heavy eyelids, the blurry shape in front of him gradually sharpened into the concerned face of Jyn Erso.

Impossible. Cassian blinked again, but she was still there, clear as day. Behind her, he thought he could see the two guardians Chirrut and Baze huddled against each other across the hold. The few remaining rebel soldiers were slumped over in another corner.

“Wha…” Words failed the captain. It had been a suicide mission; they shouldn’t have made it out. “How?”

“You’d have to ask Bodhi.” Jyn gave a semi-awed shrug. “Sorry to wake you, but he needs the coordinates for Yavin. He jumped us into hyperspace to get out of the blast, but we’ve gotta get back on track or we’ll overshoot completely.”

It took a minute for Cassian to get his scrambled brain working, but he did manage to rattle off the coordinates to the rebel’s Yavin 4 base to an attentive Jyn who then rose to tell their pilot. He could feel the floor of the ship flex as she walked, hear the gentle thud of her booted feet on the cockpit ladder.

He must have dozed off again, because when Cassian next came to it was to the soft voices of Jyn and Baze has they tended to an apparently injured Chirrut. Jyn had the ship’s medkit out and was handing bacta patches to Baze, who then applied them to his companion’s chest. Chirrut himself was still; from across the hold, Cassian couldn’t tell if he was unconscious or sleeping.

Cassian was pleased that his head felt somewhat clearer and, easing himself into a more upright position, he took stock of the rest of his injuries. He had a minor concussion and at least two cracked ribs, of that Cassian had no doubt. One leg throbbed painfully, though he wasn’t sure if it was broken or just severely bruised. He shifted again in an attempt to find a more comfortable position and succeeded only in gasping harshly as the movement tugged at the blaster wound on his shoulder.

His gasp drew Jyn’s attention. She went to his side, another bacta patch in hand. “Let me see that shoulder.”

“I’m fine-”

“Stop fidgeting and let me see.”

Jyn was surprisingly gentle as she cleansed the wound and sealed it over with the bacta patch; she hadn’t struck Cassian as the nurturing type. But then again, Jyn Erso was proving to be full of surprises.

Cassian was jerked out of his line of thought when Chirrut suddenly made to sit up and fell back with a curse and a sharp intake of breath. Baze placed a restraining hand lightly on the guardian’s chest. “Easy, Chirrut.”

“Can’t you feel-” Chirrut broke off again with a pained hiss, his brow furrowed over his sightless eyes. He paused briefly, panting lightly and seeming to listen to something that none of the rest of the them could hear. “Something is wrong with our pilot.”

As if to punctuate his point, the shuttle suddenly dipped alarmingly. Jyn, who was the only one standing, was thrown to the floor with a curse and Cassian saw stars as he slammed back into the hold wall, his already injured ribs exploding in pain. He expected alarms to start blaring, for there to be an enemy on their tail, but then the ship righted itself and the ride smoothed back out.

Grimacing, Jyn climbed back to her feet and Cassian held out his hand. “Help me up.”

Jyn looked him over once skeptically, but nodded and all but hauled the Captain to his feet. Cassian immediately locked his knees as a wave of dizziness rolled through him at the change in elevation. “Are you sure you should be walking?”

Before he could answer, the ship lurched again and Cassian grabbed onto the cockpit ladder to keep from losing his footing. “Unless you think you can fly this thing…”

The first thing that Cassian saw as he pulled himself up into the cockpit was Bodhi sitting in the pilot’s seat, hunched over the controls. The co-pilot’s seat was empty and Cassian allowed himself a moment of sorrow for K2 before walking over to the former Imperial pilot.

“Everything okay up here?”

Bodhi jumped, but seemed to calm down when he turned to find Cassian easing himself into the co-pilot’s seat. “Should you be up? Jyn said you were pretty out of it.”

Truth be told, Cassian would like nothing more than a couple hypos of painkillers and to sleep for a week, but he shook his head. He studied the controls briefly, checking that everything was in working order. “I’ll live. You scared everyone just now.”

Bodhi gave a twitchy, apologetic smile that was really more of a grimace. “Sorry ‘bout that. We, uh, we came out of hyperspace a tad sharper than I’d intended. Stabilizer’s a little more touchy than I’m used to.”

“Is this our ship?” Cassian asked, glancing around the cockpit and realizing that all their stuff bags were nowhere to be found.

“Ah, no.” Bodhi coughed briefly before he continued. “There was a - a grenade.”

A grenade? Cassian frowned in concern, doing his best to focus on the pilot. Bodhi had a gash on his temple, but the blood around it was dry and crusted. Bodhi’s face was paler than usual under what looked like a layer of ash and dirt, his eyes wide in anxiety. Cassian took all this in, including how the hand on the stabilizer sported a few new, shiney burns and was trembling ever so slightly, but didn’t see any injury that would warrant Chirrut’s reaction back in the hold.

“Are you alright?”

When Bodhi looked startled and fixed Cassian with a confused, if slightly unfocused stare, the Captain wondered when was the last time someone had asked about the pilot’s well-being. Clearing his throat, Bodhi seemed to come back to himself with a sharp nod. “Y-yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine. The ship was pretty much done for, but luckily there was another shuttle on the next pad over, so…”

Cassian wanted to ask Bodhi how he did it, how the anxious and trembling man in front of him managed to pull himself together enough to steal a ship and then located them all in the middle of a battle unlike anything Cassian had ever seen. But one look at the increased trembling of Bodhi’s hand and the slight dilation of his pupils, and Cassian knew that it would have to wait. He needed the pilot focused because his own head was spinning.

“Where are we?”

“We’re just entering the Yavin system,” Bodhi answered, reaching out with his right hand to flick a few switches as he started entry procedures and they breached the atmosphere. “Should be at base shortly.”

“I’ll get on the comms and let them know we’re in a different shuttle,” Cassian offered, pulling on one of the headsets. He had no desire for them to be shot out of the sky. “I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Beside him, Bodhi gave a laugh that broke off in a grunt of pain. Cassian watched as the pilot’s right hand retracted to press against his abdomen and reached out, wanting to help. “Bodhi?”

“It’s n-nothing,” Bodhi ground out and Cassian didn’t believe him for a second. He wanted to protest, but they were getting closer to base territory and if he didn’t get on the comms, they’d be used for target practice.

“This is Rogue One, repeat, this is Captain Cassian Andor and the crew of Rogue One requesting clearance for entry.” Cassian thumbed the comm and rattled off his personal clearance code, throwing a nervous glance over at Bodhi, who suddenly seemed to be losing what little color was left in his face. Chirrut was right; something was definitely wrong with the pilot.

“ _Captain Andor, you are cleared for entry._ ”

He hurried to respond. “Copy, coming into base. We have multiple injuries on board, requesting medical personnel to meet us on landing.”

“ _We’ll see who we can spare, Captain._ ”

Throwing down the comm headphones, Cassian turned back to Bodhi to find new sweat beaded on the pilot’s forehead. “Can you bring us in?”

Bodhi nodded shortly, his jaw clenched tightly as he skimmed over the forest canopy heading towards base. Cassian hovered nervously, one eye on his weakening pilot and the other on their course. “Hey, watch the tree!”

As though he’d dropped off suddenly, Bodhi started back to attention, wrenching the controls and moving the shuttle up and over a large tree at the last possible second. Cassian cursed as he was thrown back in his chair.

 

* * *

 

It definitely wasn’t the most graceful landing Bodhi had ever made, but as they finally touched down on the rebel’s landing pad, he felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. They’d gotten the Death Star plans to the rebels and made it out alive. Bodhi still wasn’t really sure how and he knew that only a handful of them had survived, but still, they’d done it.

_That was for you, Galen Erso._

Bodhi felt a flare of sadness when he thought of the man who’d now saved both his life and the entire galaxy. But more than anything, he felt a numb, cool nothingness spreading through his limbs and a fog settling over his mind. Dully, he thought he heard Cassian calling to him, but couldn’t make out anything past the rushing in his ears.

And then the rebel Captain ripped Bodhi’s hands away from his torso and sharp, stabbing pain brought the world crashing back into focus.

“N-no, please, leave it,” he gasped, but he was choking on the pain and he wasn’t sure if Cassian could actually hear him.

Cassian cursed viciously and Bodhi wondered if it was because he’d finally seen the shrapnel embedded in his side or the blood that was now puddled around him in the pilot’s chair. “Bodhi, you _idiota_. Why didn’t you say something?”

“It’s ok-kay,” Bodhi heard himself rambling and it sounded like lies even to his own ears. “I-it’s not that b-bad.”

“Not that- you’re bleeding out!” Cassian looked enraged and for a second Bodhi wondered if the Captain would strike him. Instead, the man called down into the hold. “I need help up here!”

The next thing Bodhi knew, Jyn was behind him, easing her hands under his armpits as Cassian rambled off instructions for getting him out of the cockpit. They were lifting him, pulling at him, and suddenly Bodhi’s back was on fire, was burning white hot and like nothing he’d ever felt in his life.

The last thing Bodhi heard before it all went dark was his own screaming.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He saved my life."

“How is he?” Cassian asked, craning his neck to try and see Bodhi around the med droid working on stabilizing his leg.

The pilot was limp on next cot over and had yet to regain consciousness. The female medic who was bent over him ignored Cassian’s question in favor of calling to one of the assistant healers.

“I need more saline!” The medic finished cutting away Bodhi’s ruined flight suit and swore at the revealed expanse of burned flesh. “Ah shit, his back’s a mess. Where are those bacta patches?”

Cassian wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Bodhi had told him about the grenade, but he certainly wasn’t ready for the sight of the pilot’s back. It was raw and charred and Cassian could see where pieces of the flight suit were stuck in the wounds. Add that to the shrapnel embedded in his side and it was probably a miracle Bodhi had made it off Scarif at all.

“He needs a tank,” Cassian called over to the medic, but she didn’t seem to hear him. He tried again, louder this time despite the grating of his ribs as he breathed deeply. “Hey, are you listening to me? He needs a bacta tank, not patches.”

“Lay back, please, Captain,” the medic said in dismissive acknowledgment as she carefully began to flush the burned and puckered flesh with saline solution.

“Look at him!” Cassian exploded, trying to get up and failing when the med droid pushed him back down. “Even with a tank that’ll scar, but without one-”

“Captain!” The medic finally stopped working on Bodhi’s back to fix Cassian with a firm but tired stare. “We’re in the middle of a war and our resources are limited! And even if we had enough bacta for a tank, I doubt I’d be cleared to use it for this Imperial.”

Cassian saw red. “He _defected_. He risked his life to bring us intelligence, he fought alongside us, he-he saved my life!”

“And for that we are grateful, Captain,” the medic said, resuming her work cleaning Bodhi’s back as best she could. “But the patches will have to do.”

 

* * *

 

Baze woke to screaming and for a second, thought he was back on the battlefield. But then he felt the warmth of Chirrut’s hand pressed into his own, breathed the sterile smell of medbay air and remembered.

_We’re on Yavin 4, at the Rebel Base. We accomplished the mission. We’re alive._

Then the screaming started again and Chirrut stirred on his cot. Baze hurried to press him back down. “Don’t move, my friend. You’re still healing.”

Chirrut’s mouth set in a frustrated frown, but he complied all the same. “It’s our pilot.”

Our pilot. Chirrut had taken to calling Bodhi that almost immediately and though Baze had been initially wary of the former Imperial pilot, he had to admit that he felt the same way about the kid. Squeezing Chirrut’s hand one last time, Baze heaved himself to his feet with a tired groan. “I’ll check on him.”

In order to give the patients some semblance of privacy, the rebel med staff had erected thin partitions, effectively creating small enclosures with one or two beds a piece. Baze passed through the maze of wounded rebel soldiers, most too exhausted to be roused even by the screaming coming from the enclosure against the far wall.

When Baze finally reached it, he found Cassian propped up on one elbow trying to sooth his trembling bunkmate across the distance between their two beds. He shot Baze a grateful look. “Thank god. Can you try and calm him down? I’ve been trying but I can’t get over to him with this damn leg…”

Cassian gestured to the heavy brace on his leg in frustration and Baze simply nodded. He was a man of few words to begin with and seeing Bodhi up close had stripped away his ability to speak at all.

The pilot was sprawled out on his stomach and his back was covered in bacta patches, though they did little to mask the disfiguring burn marks that ran up the back of his neck, over one bicep and down to the small of his back. What was left of the pilot’s long hair had been roughly, hurriedly chopped off and Baze could see smaller burns running along the hairline on his neck. His right ear was a charred mess and part of his already patchy beard looked like it had been seared off. Miraculously, his legs seemed to be untouched, but he’d obviously had some kind of shrapnel injury to his torso because blood was already leaking through the stark white bandages Baze could see there.

Finally too worn out to continue screaming, Bodhi let out a sound somewhere between a sob and an agonized howl. Baze immediately saw the problem. Bodhi was trying to breathe through the pain, but each heaving breath stretched and pulled at the skin on his back, exacerbating his situation.

“Can’t they give him something for the pain?” Baze asked, the obvious question.

Cassian didn’t look happy about it, but he shook his head. “He lost a lot of blood and the medics are afraid that if they give him anything else, something to help him sleep…”

The Captain trailed off, but Baze got the gist. They were afraid he might never wake up.

Baze found himself slightly at a loss. If he was Chirrut or one of the Temple healers, he might have tried to send Bodhi some comforting or healing waves through the Force, just something to take the edge off. But as it was, the guardian was no Force user himself and settled instead for distraction.

With as much care as he could muster, Baze placed his palm over Bodhi’s forehead, gently stroking the small freshly stitched gash he found there. The touch seemed to bring Bodhi back to himself, because his eyes fluttered open and he blinked at the large warrior in confusion. “B-Baze?”

“Peace, little brother,” Baze said calmly, stroking again at the gash in Bodhi’s hairline. “You are causing yourself distress.”

Bodhi swallowed harshly, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. He took another hitching breath and his voice was strained. “C-can’t. It’s t-too m-much, I-”

But Baze didn’t let him continue. Instead, he began humming. It was a simple, quiet tune, a popular lullaby on Jedha. He hadn’t heard it in years, not since his own childhood, but though he stumbled through a few notes it started to have the desired effect. As Bodhi listened to this melody of home and family and safety, the tense lines of his body began to gradually relax and his spasmodic breathing evened out. Tears still leaked from his eyes as he closed them, but soon he was still, hovering somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness.

“Are all guardians magicians?” Cassian wondered in a hushed tone, giving the large warrior a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not magic, Captain,” Baze grumbled, leaving Bodhi’s side momentarily to pull up a seat between his two friend’s cots. “Simply a bit of home. I’d hoped it would bring him some peace.”

As though he knew they were talking about him, Bodhi whimpered and seemed to come close to waking. But as soon as Baze returned his large hand to his forehead, the young pilot dropped right back off into oblivion.

Despite himself, Baze felt something warm spark in his heart. “Sleep well, little brother. We will be here when you wake.”


	3. 3

Finally, after days of being poked and prodded by med droids and pulled into one meeting after another, Jyn finally found a quiet moment to sneak back into the med bay and check on her… team? Friends? Jyn had been on her own for so long that she wasn’t sure what to call these men she’d suddenly found in her life, but she knew how she felt about them all. She knew she would have gladly died on Scarif if it meant they had been able to escape unscathed.

Jyn found Chirrut greatly improved. He’d suffered both burns and severe trauma to several internal organs in the grenade blast, but all of the medics were astonished at the speed of his recovery. Chirrut, of course, credited his recovery to the will of the Force. Baze was ready with his usual skeptical grunt and eyeroll, but Jyn could see that one word from Chirrut healed the big warrior’s own wounds faster than any bacta treatment available.

As for Cassian, well, the Captain was more than ready to get the hell out of the medbay. Unfortunately for him, he would be grounded a while longer as he healed the three cracked ribs and minor leg fracture that had resulted from his fall in the records tower. When Jyn caught him trying to sneak out with his leg still in the damn brace, she’d actually been so bold to pull out her baton to threaten Cassian back into bed. No, the medics hadn’t officially approved of the rowdy behavior in their medbay, but at least it actually worked.

And then there was Bodhi. Anxious, innocent, eager to please Bodhi who’d only been able to fly their shuttle back to base because his nerve endings were so damaged by the grenade blast that he hadn’t been able to feel the extent of the damage. Bodhi, who’d probably known that he was slowly bleeding out from shrapnel wounds and yet still put the rest of the crew’s safety over his own. Jyn wondered if her father had known what he was getting Bodhi into when he’d convinced the pilot to carry his message.

She also wondered whether Galen had known that Bodhi’s selflessly stubborn streak would be what saved her life.

Bodhi’d taken a turn for the worse when the medics had tried to change the bacta patches on his back and had ended up ripping off what little skin had begun to heal. Jyn hadn’t been paying too much attention - she’d been too busy trying to restrain Cassian from hurling abuse at one healer in particular - but between the blood loss, the shock of re-injuring his extensive burns, and the low grade fever that he’d had since they first came in, she knew Bodhi’s chances of pulling through were slim. She’d seen stronger men succumb to less during her time with Saw Gerrera.

Cassian, however, wasn’t having any of that. He somehow managed to get an audience with Senator Mon Mothma and convinced her to authorize use of just enough bacta to bathe Bodhi’s wounds. He’d argued that Bodhi was bound to have a wealth of knowledge of Imperial stations and protocols, but that he needed to be kept alive in order to be useful. Although she knew that Cassian didn’t mean it, that he was ensuring their friend’s survival, it still made Jyn uncomfortable to hear the Captain and Senator talk about Bodhi like he was just another tool in their arsenal.

Regardless, it worked. Under direct order from Senator Mothma, the medics bathed Bodhi’s burns in pure bacta and left them uncovered to dry. Already, Jyn could see improvement; the burns looked less raw around the edges and Bodhi’s fever began to go down. Now he just had to wake up.

“He’ll wake up when he’s ready,” Cassian spoke, as though he could read her thoughts. The Captain looked over at the pilot with a level of fondness that left Jyn a bit surprised. “I’m just glad he’s finally healing.”

Jyn opened her mouth to reply when one of Bodhi’s stat monitor’s beeped as his heart rate started to climb. Exchanging a concerned look with Cassian, Jyn hurried to the pilot’s bedside. “Bodhi?”

The pilot’s face screwed up in a grimace as he began to come round. His eyes fluttered open briefly, before he closed them tight against the brightness of the medbay. When he spoke, his voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. “J-Jyn?”

“Welcome back.” Jyn replied in an equally soft tone, unable to help the smile of pure relief that crept over her face. Then Bodhi shifted ever so slight as though he meant to sit up. “No, don’t move, your back’s only just started to set. I’ll go get a medic.”

 

* * *

 

As Jyn hurried off in search of a medic, Cassian watched as Bodhi took carefully controlled breaths, wary of straining his burns. The Captain waited for his friend to speak, not wanting to push him too far too fast. After a moment, Bodhi cleared his throat lightly.

“How’re the others?”

Cassian shook his head in amused astonishment. For a man who hadn’t known any of them a week ago, a man who had been a pawn of the Empire, Bodhi’s heart and compassion were inspiring. “Everyone’s fine and well on the way to mending, thanks to you.”

“Hm?” Bodhi’s face screwed up in confusion and he swallowed. “How, uh, h-how long-”

“It’s been five days since we got back.”

“What?” Now Bodhi did start slightly, jarring his back and letting out a hiss of pain. “I don’t, uh, I barely remember landing…”

“I’d expect not,” Cassian said, fixing the pilot with a serious look. “You were delirious from blood loss and were covered in third degree burns, which you neglected to tell anyone about.”

Bodhi seemed to understand that he was being scolded, because he let his gaze slide away from Cassian to rest on the floor. “There, uh, there wasn’t time. Scarif was exploding and-”

“What about once we were on course?” Cassian demanded, using the voice he used for the rare disciplinary issue within the rebel Intelligence unit. Part of the Captain felt bad about yelling at the still injured man, but he also needed to make Bodhi understand. “Do you know how reckless that was? It was only luck that you made it back to base alive.”

Bodhi swallowed thickly again; Cassian made a mental note to ask the medic if the pilot could have something to drink. “You’re right. I was the only one who knew h-how to fly the shuttle. If I’d… I put you all at risk by not saying anything. I’m sorry.”

Wait. Cassian didn’t understand where things went wrong, but that was not at all what he’d been trying to say. “Bodhi, listen to me. This isn’t about putting others at risk, it’s about your own safety.”

“My safety?” If Bodhi had been confused before, now he looked positively bewildered. “But I- I’m just a pilot.”

_I’m expendable._

Cassian could hear the unspoken message as clear as day and cursed whatever cruel circumstances had led to Bodhi working under the thumb of the Empire. He’d known from the second he laid eyes on the half-broken man in Saw Gerrera’s hideout; Bodhi was no Imperial. He was just a guy, with maybe a little more courage than average, trying to make his way in galaxy that held few options.

“Maybe that’s how things worked under the Empire,” Cassian said firmly, “but now you’re _our_ pilot. And we need our pilot in one piece to fight another day. _Comprende?_ ”

Bodhi still looked a little unsure, but he gave a short little nod and just the smallest upward quirk of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> How did they survive? Honestly, I have no clue. But stay tuned, 'cause Bodhi's not out of the woods yet.


End file.
